


He's One Of Us

by allthewaysweets



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthewaysweets/pseuds/allthewaysweets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok, um, this was inspired by a tumblr post, huh, yeah, enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	He's One Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, um, this was inspired by a tumblr post, huh, yeah, enjoy :)

sherlockianh  
Ok, so I was scrolling through tumblr and I found a post by this user (above) that has inspired my to keep writing on it (like a mini story, tell me what you think!) If you aren’t following them and you have tumblr… Go do it now! So um yeah enjoy   
Here is the post for starters:  
He's One of Us  
Aw….stranger, I loved this! Wish we could continue…

You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like Johnlock.

You: John, we need to speak now. Come home. SH

Stranger: I’m at work. JW

You: And it’s important. Come home. SH

Stranger: It can wait several hours. JW

You: No, because I’m leaving in ten minutes. SH

Stranger: I’ll meet up with you wherever you’re going. JW

You: You can’t. I’m going out of London. SH

Stranger: What? JW

You: I’m going to Dartmoor. SH

Stranger: Why, exactly? JW

You: For the exact thing we need to speak about, clearly. SH

Stranger: Which is? JW

You: My experiment worked, apparently. SH

Stranger: Which one? JW

You: We have a son, now. SH

Stranger: I’m on my way. JW

You: Lovely. I’m still at the flat. SH

Stranger: How did you? I mean. JW

Stranger: You’re sure, about this? JW

You: Mycroft’s help and the scientists at Baskerville. He “forgot” to tell me it had succeeded months ago. The child is nearly a year. SH

You: Yes, I’m sure about it. /I/ found the file. It was Mycroft’s idea, I simply helped. SH

Stranger: He’s a /year/. Jesus Christ. JW

You: According to the files, yes. Which is why I’m leaving to go get him, whether you come or not. SH

Stranger: We don’t have anything in the flat. JW

You: Yes, I’m aware. SH

Stranger: We need a crib, food, pajamas, clothes, toys. JW

You: Yes, I’m aware. I’ve researched it. SH

Stranger: You’re sure you can get him? No questions asked? JW

You: I’m going to whether or not Mycroft likes it. He’s /my/ son. SH

Stranger: You go. JW

You: You’ll be able to find things for him? I’m sure Mrs. Hudson will be able to help. We can put him in my room for the time being. SH

Stranger: Yeah. I’ll take the next few days off. JW

Stranger: You can handle getting him on your own. JW

You: Yes, John, I’ve said that already. Why are you so worried? SH

Stranger: He’s a baby, Sherlock. JW

You: And? SH

Stranger: He’s been locked up for a year. JW

You: Yes, I’ve also said that. If you’re going to say something, John, say it. SH

Stranger: He’ll be scared, hurt and upset. JW

You: I can comfort him. SH

Stranger: It’s a big undertaking. JW

You: Do you want to come, then?SH

Stranger: No. We should be ready once he’s home. JW

Stranger: It’s fine. It’ll be fine. JW

You: Alright. Do you have a name in mind? SH

Stranger: I didn’t know I had a son until ten minutes ago. JW

You: Must you keep pointing out the obvious? SH

Stranger: I don’t have a name. JW

You: Neither do I. SH

Stranger: We can’t just not call him anything. JW

You: Then we need to come up with a name, John. Are you nearly here? SH

Stranger: Just head out, I’m stuck in traffic. JW

You: Alright. Do you have any names you hate? SH

Stranger: Not particularly fond of Peter or Luke. JW

You: Then we’re agreed on that. No Oliver either, or at least for me. SH

Stranger: Fair enough. JW

You: I’ve searched up names my mother seemed to enjoy. You’re supposed to be sentiment and have meanings with these things, correct? What of Caleb? SH

Stranger: I don’t hate it. JW

You: You don’t like it either, than. SH

You: *then.   Hamish? SH

Stranger: That’s my middle name. JW

Stranger: Isn’t that a bit self-indulgent? JW

You: I can’t think of anything else. SH

Stranger: I suppose Hamish is nice. JW

You: I’m searching for more. SH

Stranger: You don’t like Hamish. JW

You: No, you said it was self-indulgent. SH

You: Do you suppose this could wait until we both see him? That may sway what we decide. SH

Stranger: That might be best. JW

You: Alright. You’ll go to the shops then? I’ll let you know when I’ve got him and the files. SH

Stranger: I’ll be fine. Everything will be here once you get home. JW

You: Lovely. Sh

You: Thank you….for this. I’m aware you don’t…consider yourself homosexual and doing something like this…tests your limits. SH

Stranger: Don’t hurt yourself. JW

Stranger: You know I’m always on your side. JW

You: Why would I injure myself? SH

You: I’m just….trying to say thank you. I’m sure he’ll enjoy you far more than he will me. SH

Stranger: You being sentimental, it seems like you might pull something. JW

Stranger: I appreciate it, but you know that’s not true. JW

You: It is, John. SH

You: I suppose…I’ll text you in a few hours. Let you know how it goes. SH

Stranger: Good luck, alright? You’re going to be fine. He’ll love you. JW

You: Yeah. You as well. I’m…I’m a bit nervous. SH

You: But I should go. Talk to you later. SH

You: ((Should we time skip?))

Stranger: (Sounds good!)

You: I’ve….I’ve got him. SH

Stranger: You’re alright? He’s alright? JW

You: Are you able to get sunglasses or something? SH

You: He’s…asleep at the moment, but his eyes are sensitive to sunlight. He’s not been exposed to it before. SH

Stranger: He’s never seen the fucking sun. Christ. JW

Stranger: Yeah, they sell them. I’ll pop out and get a pair. JW

You: Yes, he was in the basement. I don’t…I don’t really wish to speak of how he was living at the moment. SH

You: I attempted to read his file but…I couldn’t. SH

Stranger: I’ll read it, tell you what you need to know. JW

You: I suppose I could, but….I just need a moment. God, the things they did to him, John….SH

You: They laced his bottle so he would sleep. He wasn’t allowed…touch. Embraces were limited to three a day. SH

Stranger: Fucking hell. JW

You: That’s how I feel. We’re nearly home. I should have texted sooner, but he was upset. SH

You: ((I should have asked this sooner, but do you have any triggers, dear?))

Stranger: (No, I’m fine. You?)

Stranger: Is he fussy most of the time? JW

You: (Nope!)   I’m trying to understand if it’s him being unsure of me, but it he has something on his arm. You’ll need to look at it. SH

Stranger: What’s it look like? Scab? Bruise? JW

You: Like an allergic reaction, I think. It’s a bit of a lump, but like a bruise. SH

You: He keeps trying to touch it, but I’ve kept him from it.

You: ((Brb; snack. My email is ward.layne98@gmail.com and tumblr is sherlockianh if we get disconnected))

Stranger: I know this might sound insane, but you don’t think they chipped him- do you? JW

You: I…never considered it, but they might have. SH

Stranger: Does he fuss when you touch it? JW

You: He fusses if /either/ of us touch it. He keeps trying to rub it, but whines when he does. SH

Stranger: Take him to Bart’s. I’ll ring Mike and have him meet you. He should have an x-ray. JW

You: Alright. SH

You: Do you think he’ll be alright? SH

Stranger: Mike’ll look at it before, if it’s nothing to worry about then he’ll have you go. JW

Stranger: Otherwise, he’ll do an X-ray. JW

Stranger: I’ve no idea, really how it’ll go. Knowing what they put him through. JW

You: Alright. And if it’s a chip? SH

You: I’m just worried for his sake. He was so upset when I came in…he was so deprived, his hair has bits of grey in it. SH

Stranger: If it’s a chip he’ll remove it. It’s nothing major. Some local anesthesia, a scalpel and some stitches. JW

Stranger: Like, naturally? JW

You: Alright. I…purchased a small rabbit for him. He seems attached to it already. SH

You: His hair is dark like mine, but it’s turning grey from stress. SH

Stranger: It’s smaller than him, soft, pliable, non-threatening. That’s not surprising. JW

Stranger: Any idea if he’s been eating? JW

You: I suppose. They’ve had him on a variety of diets, to see how his body reacts. Lately he hasn’t been eating, according to what I can tell. He isn’t taking well to the diet they had him on. Sh

Stranger: We’ll start him off on softer foods then. JW

You: That sounds good. We’re nearly at the hospital. You coming? SH

Stranger: I’m going to get some food ready, a bath, and sort out some appointments. He needs to see a proper pediatrician, a dentist, and I’m considering a therapist. JW

You: Bath isn’t a good idea. Not today, at least. SH

Stranger: Why? JW

You: He’s terrified of them. They bathed him three times a week because of it. SH

Stranger: What if we scrubbed him with a wash cloth? You reckon he’d be alright? JW

You: I’m not sure. I simply know one of the nurses he had tried to drown him because he was a “demon” or some rubbish and he wont step foot into a loo. SH

Stranger: Who the hell was looking after him? JW

Stranger: We’ll give it a shot. I’ll set something up in the living room. JW

You: He was assigned a new nurse every couple weeks. It was before she left. SH  Alright. I’m going in. He’s still asleep, though. I’ve got my coat over his head to hide from the light. SH

Stranger: I managed to get some sunglasses. They should fit. JW

You: Alright. Thank you. Should I wake him up? SH

Stranger: No. It’s not necessary and he probably needs rest. JW

You: Alright. I’ll let you know when it’s finished. SH

Stranger: Ta. Keep me in the loop. JW

You: Will do. SH

You: (A couple hours later) On our way home. SH

Stranger: How was it? JW

You: He had the chip. SH

You: Cried and screamed through the x-ray and anesthesia. SH

Stranger: Jesus. I’m sorry, but we had to. JW

You: No, we did. He’s eating at the moment, sitting quietly in my lap. SH

Stranger: What did you give him? JW

You: Just baby cookies that we found at the store. I bought him a blanket; I thought he deserved a gift for that. SH

Stranger: He’s got you wrapped around his finger. JW

You: He was upset! SH

Stranger: It’s sweet. JW

You: We should find a name for him soon…SH

Stranger: What are you thinking? JW

You: I’m not sure. Hamish or something else. SH

Stranger: If you don’t think it’s vain to give him my middle name, I’m more than fine with it. JW

You: I’m no good at these sort of things. Is it vain? No more than naming them after yourself. SH

Stranger: Hamish then. JW

You: Alright. Middle name? SH

Stranger: What’s yours? JW

You: William Sherlock Scott Holmes is my full name. Scott, I suppose. SH

Stranger: Hamish Scott. JW

You: Hamish Scott Watson-Holmes.

Stranger: Sherlock. JW

You: What? SH

Stranger: You don’t have to give him my last name. JW

You: He’s your son. SH

Stranger: Moreso yours. JW

You: No, he’s yours as well, John. SH

Stranger: If you’re sure. JW

You: Of course I am. We’re five minutes away. SH

Stranger: Everything’s ready. JW

You: Wonderful. Can you get him something to eat? I think he’s still hungry. Sh

Stranger: I have some baby food. JW

You: That will do. We’re just pulling up now. SH

Stranger: I see you. JW

You: Coming up. SH

You: Sherlock’s feet were heavy as he trudged up the stairs. He shut his eyes briefly, holding the small boy in his arms. He was still a bit off, the anesthesia still in effect. His dark curled head rested on his shoulder, one hand holding his blanket and his bunny against him, the other wound in Sherlock’s hair. It seemed to be a comfort for him, relaxing and soothing. The small fingers combed through it, tugging and twirling it around his hand. It tugged a bit, but Hamish was content, so that’s what mattered. He had the files tucked under his arm, the prescribed medication Mike had given him for the infection the chip had caused in his hand. “John?” He called quietly. “We’re home.”

Stranger: John turned as he heard Sherlock mount the last few stairs, worry evident in the furrow of his brow. He’d only a caught a glimpse of dark hair through the window, not a proper look at the boy that was now supposed to be his son. Now that he could see him up close he wasn’t sure that he could have fully appreciate how similar to Sherlock Hamish looked from the window. Same shocking eyes, even if they were marginally covered by drooping eyelids at the moment. John hesitated a brief moment before moving forward, stopping short in front of Sherlock. His eyes flickered from Sherlock’s face to Hamish’s, taking it in. “It’s good to see you.” He said genuinely, a small smile gracing his face. “Do you reckon- do you think I could home?” He asked tentatively.

You: Sherlock glanced down at the small boy in his arms, stroking his hair and watching as the small eyes glanced to John tiredly. “Of course,” Sherlock said softly, moving to whisper into the boy’s ear. “I’m going to pass you to your Papa, love. Alright? Then I’ll go fetch you something yummy to eat.” He lifted Hamish carefully, pacing him to John. “Mindful of his arm,” he said quietly, looking around at the things John had bought. He found the baby food John had started to prepare, heating it up and then starting to set up the highchair as well. “Here, do you want to feed him? He’s fairy good at doing it himself, but he’s probably not wanting to use his arm much. I can, if you’d like. You put his bed in my room?”

Stranger: John’s eyes softened as Hamish was gently set in his arms, the boy warm and sluggish with sleep. He adjusted the boy so his head was nestled in the crook of his neck, bunny and blanket pressed safe between his own chest and John’s. Once settled he followed Sherlock into the kitchen, rubbing his hand on Hamish’s back absently. “I’ll hold him, you feed him. I’m sure being held is reassuring, especially considering he….he hasn’t been.” At those words John’s gaze dropped onto Hamish’s sweet face, trying to ignore the churn of anger and disgust that developed when he thought about what Hamish had endured. “I put the crib in my room.” It’s warmer, further away from any noise from the street but close enough that he can hear noise from the living room to reassure him he’s near other people. I’ll just keep on the sofa.”

You: Sherock nodded, sitting on the sofa silently and stirring the food as he watched John with their son. “Don’t be stupid. You can use my room, John. I sleep the less, and can sleep in your old bed with him if I need. You snore; I don’t. It makes more sense for us to switch.” He shrugged and scooped a small bit of the gloop in the bowl. He held it up to Hamish’s lips, and they parted weakly. Placing it in the boy’s mouth, he watched as the small thing ate it quickly. “I’d put him to bed after he eats. Change him and let him rest properly.” Hamish whined softly, starting to fuss and squirm. Sherlock brought the next bite up to his lips, which seemed to calm him, but he still was upset as he fussed and cried.

Stranger: John hesitated before assenting. “Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed, /but/ if you decide to get some sleep I’m sleeping on the sofa for the night. You don’t sleep often, so the little sleep you do get might as well be restful.”

Stranger: (sorry ignore that sent it to early!)

You: ((Happens to the best of us!))

Stranger: John hesitated before assenting. “Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed, /but/ if you decide to get some sleep I’m sleeping on the sofa for the night. You don’t sleep often, so the little sleep you do get might as well be restful.” He smiled as Hamish ate a little. “I’d like to give him a quick wash before you do anything. Get him clean and warm before he goes down.”

Stranger: (God, did it again. Sorry)

You: ((Haha it’s fine.))

Stranger: John hesitated before assenting. “Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed, /but/ if you decide to get some sleep I’m sleeping on the sofa for the night. You don’t sleep often, so the little sleep you do get might as well be restful.” He smiled as Hamish ate a little. “I’d like to give him a quick wash before you do anything. Get him clean and warm before he goes down.” As Hamish began fussing, however, the frown became a smile. He began to bounce him gently, dropping a kiss onto his soft head. “What’s going on with you, him? You’ve had a long day. I’d be a bit bothered too.” He murmured, his nose rubbing gently at Hamish’s hair. “You’re alright, love, nothing to fuss over.”

You: Sherlock continued to feed Hamish, and the boy seemed to calm at the routine, lying his head back down on to John’s shoulder. The detective smiled at him, kissing his forehead before pulling back. “Fine. Though I doubt I’ll know ahead of time,” he answered with an eye roll. When Hamish finished the bowl, he smiled as he stood. “Good job, Hamish,” he cheered. “I’ll go get you something to drink, alright? I’m sure your Papa would like to show you the toys he got you and get your wash ready, hm?” At the word /wash/ Hamish burst into tears. They streaked down his cheeks, chest giving small weak shudders. Sherlock’s face fell slightly, sighing. “Hamish, there’s nothing to be upset about. You’re alright..”

Stranger: John stood, taking care not to jostle Hamish as he did so. The boy seemed sated now that he had eaten, and John was fairly sure that after a wash and slipping into a warm set of pajamas he would doze right off. The wash wouldn’t take long, it was mostly just to scrub off any residual grime, physical or figurative, from the place where Hamish and been kept captive. The water was set out, having been hot earlier it was warm now with a wash cloth beside it. It seemed like the wash wasn’t going to be the part that was the problem, but more so Hamish himself. “Oh, shush now, you’re alright. It’s alright.” John soothed gently, glancing at Sherlock and back at Hamish. “None of that, it’s not what you think it’s more of a… a tidy!” He nodded eagerly, brushing a kiss on Hamish’s temple. “We’re tidying you up, that’s all. There’s nothing to fret over.”

You: Sherlock bent next to the small basin, extending his arms for the small boy. “Come here, Hamish. No need to cry,” he said softly, helping to strip the boy of his clothes. Hamish had lost his mind, screaming, kicking and flailing as he struggled to get away from Sherlock. The detective kept his grip, trying to soothe the small boy. “Shh, shh. Look, it’s alright. We wont hurt you,” he whispered, kissing his cheeks and helping him on to his lap, towel draped under neath him. “You’re not going in. Papa’s just going to wash you, that’s all. I’ve got you.” He reached for one of the toys he saw, a small duck and placed it in his hands. “There. Why don’t you play with this? You’re perfectly fine, that’s all.”

Stranger: this has been fun but I have to dash, sorry Thanks for this!

Stranger has disconnected.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
John looked over as Sherlock handed Hamish the small duck and looked at with wonder, John walked over with warm wet cloth and knelt down  
“Hey Hamish, its ok we aren’t going to harm you, we are nothing like Baskerville…”  
John regretted saying ‘Baskerville’ the moment the word slipped from his mouth, because Hamish’s eyes filled up with tears. Sherlock embraced the small boy and cradled him, mumming words into to his ear, after a couple of minutes Sherlock released Hamish and turned him towards John  
“I’m so, so sorry Hamish”  
Hamish nodded in response, John lifted up the cloth and started cleaning the small boy who wouldn’t still let go of the small duck, he really did resemble Sherlock, shaggy black mass of curls, pale thin body, but what John really couldn’t get over is that Hamish had John’s eyes, he’d have to ask Sherlock later, once Hamish was asleep in his crib. Once Hamish was clean, John went out into the lounge room and picked up the pajama onsie he had brought earlier for Hamish, it was quite cute actually, it was a brightish green, with dark green spots all over it, and what made john chuckle before buying it was that it had a bum flap... Taking the PJs into the bathroom, Sherlock was just finishing up drying off Hamish, he handed the onsie to Sherlock, who as well chuckled at the selection of PJs, helped Hamish step into the piece of clothing (and nappy) and button it up, it had been a few hours and John could see already how much better of a ‘Papa’ Sherlock was than John. Sherlock smiled at Hamish, who was looking cuter than ever, duck in hands, shaggy curls, green onsie on.  
“John, do you want to help Hamish into to the crib, or shall I—“   
“No, no, Sherlock, don’t be silly, of course I’ll help Hamish into his crib”  
John knelt down to look at Hamish, placing a hand on his shoulder  
“Ready for sleep, Hamish?”  
Hamish gave a sleepy nod then yawned and stretched, John took his small hand in his and led him, then picked him up at the stairs and led him into John’s old room, Hamish’s crib was just in the end of Sherlock’s new bed. Lifting him up and placing him in, John grabbed the bunny and blanket and placed the blanket on the sleeping boy, and placed the bunny beside him, then crept out of the room and quietly shut the door. When John got downstairs, Sherlock was sitting on his chair, with a hand in his hair  
“John, I am so sorry, at first I didn’t think the experiment would work, I was trying to prove Mycroft wrong…”  
John went over a knelt down by Sherlock’s chair.  
“Sherlock, it’s perfectly ok, we can get through this together”  
Sherlock lifted his head to look at John, who smiled at Sherlock  
“Thank you.”  
“Do you want me to look at the file?”  
Sherlock let out a shaky breath and nodded  
John stood up and went to the desk and picked up the file, then sat back down in his own chair to flick through it.  
It was the most horrid file John had ever read, at first it wasn’t as bad as the rest, just amounts of DNA mixing, who would the child look like most, the creation, then that’s when it started to go bad, testing on Hamish during the nine months of ‘pregnancy’, force feeding, washing him with acid water, skin testing (like Bluebell the rabbit…), muscle growth, the list went on and on… John didn’t know what to say, Sherlock looked at John  
“Well?”  
All John could mange was to shake his head. Sherlock leaned back in is chair.  
“Well, wow. I-I don’t know. I don’t know what to say”  
“Me neither Sherlock, but what matters is that he is our son, and that he is safe, and that we will work together on this.”  
Sherlock looked up at John.  
“What?”  
Sherlock’s mouth opened as if to say something then closed it, giving him a quizzical look, John shifted in his chair, he hated it when Sherlock gave him that look.  
Sherlock was the one to break the silence  
“Do we have a sufficient supply of baby food?”  
“Yes, Sherlock, there should be enough in the cupboard to last us a week or two.”  
“Nappies?”  
“Yes, Sherlock.”  
Sherlock nodded   
“Look Sherlock, you have nothing to worry about, you are much better at this than I am—“  
John stopped mid sentence because Sherlock was looking at him with a look that John could not even start to put to words, a mixture of hurt, surprise, and a whole bunch of emotions  
“John—Don’t even think for a moment that I’m any good at this—“  
“But you are Sherlock! The way you calmed him, cradled him, brought him a toy and a blanket for crying out loud! You already have your head around this situation and I-I don’t even know if this is one fucked up dream or reality!”  
John hadn’t even realized he was standing, until Sherlock was standing himself, incredibly close to John, so close, their bodies were almost touching.  
Sherlock whispered…  
“John, you are a good dad, you chose the pajamas, brought a ton of baby food and nappies, the way you helped Hamish into his crib upstairs, don’t even doubt for one minute that you aren’t are great Papa for Hamish.”  
John swallowed. He didn’t know what to think, this was indeed reality. John was going to have to get used to the situation, and fast. John was lost in thought, until Sherlock’s voice broke him out of it  
“What?”  
“I said, that Hamish has your eyes.”  
“W-well, that’s a good thing, right?”  
Sherlock smiled, they were still standing really close together  
“Yes, yes it is, they are beautiful eyes.”  
John was taken aback by the comment, or compliment, Sherlock wasn’t really one to give out compliments.  
“Th-thank you.”  
“They truly are beautiful.”  
Sherlock was studying John’s face, John didn’t know what to do, but just stand completely still. John could feel a lump in his throat. John could see Sherlock’s pupils dilating. Sherlock put a hand on John’s arm, letting it slide down to his hand, John couldn’t move, he didn’t consider himself homosexual, well, until now…   
“John, I know that you aren’t, well, gay, or anything, it’s just that, he has our DNA combined, a-and I’m sorry, but I don’t think a-any girls would be i-int---“   
“Interested with a guy, who has a son with a another man? Yeah I know, but, I don’t know Sherock…”  
“D-do you want t-to try?”  
“Try what?”  
Sherlock closed the distance between their mouths, it was a soft kiss, lasting for only as second  
“That.”  
“Well, Sherlock, we are already ‘Papas’ together, so, what’s the harm?”  
Sherlock smiled, kissing John again, to only have it stopped by a crying Hamish upstairs, Sherlock sighed, but then gave a worried look towards the room upstairs  
“You ready, John?”  
“Whenever you are.”  
Sherlock walked towards the stairs and John followed closely behind.  
John had a blurred vision of what just happened the past few hours, but he certainly enjoyed the last bit of it.


End file.
